The knock on the door startled the small group of international students gathered after hours in a lecture theatre on the University of Michigan campus in late March.

The meeting was billed as an opportunity for students to process their feelings and “find healing” over what it described as “recent changes in the U.S. immigration landscape.” Clearly anxiety was running high; when I entered, notebook in hand, a university employee quickly ushered me outside. She said the students were shaken by what they had seen in the news. They didn’t want to speak in front of a journalist.

The day before, social media was flooded with video of the dramatic arrest of Rumeysa Ozturk, a Turkish international student at Tufts University in Massachusetts. The co-author of an opinion piece that defended pro-Palestinian protests, Ms. Ozturk was stopped on the street by masked officers in plain clothes, handcuffed and bundled into an unmarked vehicle. The arrest occurred about two and a half weeks after the apprehension of Mahmoud Khalil, a Columbia grad student who led pro-Palestinian protests and who, like Ms. Ozturk, was being held in Louisiana, threatened with deportation. Ms. Ozturk returned to Boston on Saturday, after a judge ordered her release a day earlier.

A graduate student at the University of Michigan not present at the meeting said he and his fellow international students feel they can’t speak freely any more.

“We want to stay invisible,” he said. “We fear for everything.”

The principles of free speech and academic independence that made the U.S. a magnet for top students from around the world are “no more,” the student said.

The Globe and Mail is not identifying the student because he’s concerned his status could be at risk for speaking to a journalist.

The fear that’s gripping international students is one aspect of a broader crisis as President Donald Trump takes aim at America’s system of higher education.

He has made clear he regards universities, and particularly the elite Ivy League, as hotbeds of left-wing radicalism. He has threatened to rescind hundreds of millions in federal funding at several universities, in some cases for what he says were inadequate efforts to police protests he views as antisemitic, and in other cases for having policies and programs focused on diversity, equity and inclusion.

At the same time, scientific research has been threatened with billions in cuts. In one move, the National Institutes of Health, the world‘s largest funder of health research, has been told to cap the portion of its grants that are counted as “indirect costs,” which are crucial to maintaining the infrastructure at universities to produce new research. The matter is still being litigated before the courts, but it could have a landscape-altering impact.

Academic independence, the cherished idea that researchers should pursue what they think is important without political interference, is being overrun.

In March, Columbia gave in to some of the administration‘s demands, including placing its Middle East studies department under outside supervision, in order to restore US$400-million in federal funding.

Princeton, Cornell, Northwestern and Brown were similarly threatened with losing hundreds of millions for failing to combat antisemitism, while the University of Pennsylvania was targeted for allowing a trans athlete to compete on its swim team.

For weeks, it appeared the other schools would follow Columbia’s lead and negotiate deals with the administration. Then Harvard, faced with extraordinary demands related to admissions, hiring and governance, decided it had no choice but to resist. A huge battle is headed for the courts after the government froze US$2.2-billion in research funds and threatened the university’s tax-exempt status.

The outcome of that case will have implications for schools across the U.S, including Michigan, one of the country’s most prestigious public universities.

But already, in late March, the university, responding in part to government pressure, closed its DEI office.

Walking through the University of Michigan’s Ann Arbor campus, life appears normal. Professors lecture in front of white boards, students linger between classes, small talk focuses on the new pop-up store and the men’s basketball team.

For many staff, the notion of a federal government determined to attack higher education is too depressing to contemplate. Others hold onto hope that looming dark clouds don’t necessarily portend a storm. If a movie was made about that storm, the opening frames would linger on the information kiosks that dot the campus. The university slogan unintentionally foreshadows the uncertainty of the moment: “For what’s next, look to Michigan.”

One flyer for a student council candidate pledges to ensure that no student suffers the same fate as Mr. Khalil, a green card holder detained and threatened with deportation for taking part in protests. Another advertises a teach-in on White House executive actions targeting universities. And a university PR poster distills Michigan’s principles to six words: integrity, respect and innovation, alongside diversity, equity and inclusion. Those last three words were on borrowed time.

The University of Michigan is considered among the top 25 universities in the world, according to the Times Higher Education reputation rankings. Its president until last Thursday, Santa Ono, was at the helm of the University of British Columbia from 2016 to 2022.

Last week, Dr. Ono announced he was leaving Michigan to take on the presidency at the University of Florida. When he took the job in Ann Arbor, Dr. Ono called the University of Michigan “the pinnacle of public higher education” – and it’s known for its vast range of research strengths, from basic sciences to engineering, medicine and pharmaceuticals.

Under the second Trump administration, Michigan has been under pressure to make changes.

The university has been a leading champion of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) in higher education, a prime policy target for the new administration. It has also been the site of protests related to Israel’s military action in Gaza and Lebanon that followed the Hamas attacks of Oct. 7, 2023, during which 1,200 Israelis were killed and another 251 taken hostage. Palestinian health authorities estimate 50,000 Palestinians have been killed since the beginning of the war.

Michigan is one of 60 U.S. schools that received a letter in March from the Department of Education‘s Office for Civil Rights that threatened potential penalties for failing to protect Jewish students. It was also threatened with losing funding if it didn’t scrap its DEI policies.

On March 27, the university announced it would comply with some of the White House demands. In an e-mail to all staff and students, Dr. Ono and other top administrators announced that the university’s DEI office would close immediately and that its strategic plan for such initiatives, known as DEI 2.0, was dead.

The e-mail said the decisions were not made lightly and acknowledged the changes would be significant and challenging for many. It trumpeted program successes; since the first DEI strategic plan in 2016, its programs contributed to a 46-per-cent increase in students whose parents didn’t attend university and a 32-per-cent increase in admissions from low-income families.

But while many were proud of those achievements, some on campus, as the administration put it, “voiced frustration that they did not feel included in DEI initiatives and that the programming fell short in fostering connections among diverse groups.”

The reaction on campus was swift.

On the pages of the University Record, a publication for faculty and staff, commenters accused the administration of cowardice, of caving to the demands of the Trump administration, of failing to consult with faculty, and of sacrificing academic independence.

Julie Boland, a professor of psychology and linguistics at Michigan and president of the local chapter of the American Association of University Professors, said she was deeply disappointed by the decision.

“DEI has been part of the Michigan brand. We’ve been a leader in that domain. For us to cave like that is a really big deal,” Prof. Boland said.

She said many academics will remain committed to the principles of DEI, and may be able to apply them in a different guise. But she described the present moment as scary and depressing.

The assaults are coming from many directions, she said. As well as the threats of deportation that face some international students, she said federal cuts to research in areas such as climate and the environment may cost time that can’t be regained. The threat to research funding in general, such as the billions in grants to the National Institutes of Health, could mean not only lost jobs but lost scientific progress.

Prof. Boland said she wants to see university presidents band together to resist the incursions from Washington.

“Fight for our principles. Fight for academic freedom. Fight for free expression,” she said. “I don‘t understand why that’s not happening. We saw Columbia cave and now this paragon of DEI has caved.”

It took several weeks, but that resistance has now begun, spurred in part by the fight at Harvard. In a letter sent in late April, hundreds of college presidents protested what they called “unprecedented government overreach and political interference” that is endangering American higher education.

“We will always seek effective and fair financial practices, but we must reject the coercive use of public research funding,” the presidents wrote.

Dr. Ono initially included his name on the letter, but shortly after it was announced he’d be leaving the University of Michigan, his name was removed. He then wrote in an article for Inside Higher Ed that he supported the original intent of DEI programs to ensure “equal opportunity and fairness for every student” but felt it had become “more about ideology, division and bureaucracy, not student success.”

He added: “That’s why, as president of the University of Michigan, I made the decision to eliminate centralized DEI offices and redirect resources toward academic support and merit-based achievement. It wasn’t universally popular, but it was necessary.”

University security would not allow me to visit the school’s DEI office on March 28, the morning after it was closed. But around campus, it was easy to find people devastated by the decision.

Lenny Johnson, a fourth-year student from Florida, was studying in the glass atrium of the Literature, Science and the Arts building. Ms. Johnson, who identifies as Black and Hispanic and is the first in her family to attend university, said she felt the impact of the announcement personally.

Ms. Johnson‘s parents were born in Gambia and Puerto Rico and she attended high school in Florida. She said it was difficult when she began her studies at what she calls a “PWI,” short for “predominantly White institution.” But she played in the school’s marching band, performing at football games, and came to love U of M. She is preparing to pursue a career in dentistry. The decision to cancel the university’s DEI office, though, feels like a blow.

“It just feels like a direct hit at me and the community we tried to build. These are the programs that are here to help you,” Ms. Johnson said.

DEI initiatives often include financial resources for students from under-represented groups as well as tutoring and mentorship programs to address cultural adjustments and unfamiliarity in navigating the university environment. They aren’t limited to issues related to race, but are also designed to help students with a disability or who are first in their family to attend university.

The axe on DEI at Michigan came on the heels of an alumni association decision to cancel the LEAD scholarship, which helps about 300 students annually with funding of US$5,000 to US$15,000, and is designed to boost the presence of under-represented minorities on campus. According to the alumni association, that decision also stemmed from a desire to comply with federal policy guidance.

Several dozen Black staff and faculty met that week in late March at the Trotter Multicultural Centre, a building that traces its history to the Black Action Movement, a series of protests for greater Black representation that occurred between 1970 and 1987.

The gathering felt like a wake. Younger staff passed trays of sandwiches. Elders offered lessons from previous struggles. The prevailing mood, though, was resignation.

“It feels like a time of collective mourning,” said one employee. The Globe is not identifying him because he is not authorized to speak publicly. “My feeling was it was inevitable, given the way things are.”

The Trump administration justifies many of its actions toward universities based on what it sees as failure to protect Jewish students from antisemitism in the aftermath of the Oct. 7 terror attacks.

At Michigan, the war in the Middle East prompted heartache and agitation, several students said.

Stefan Nielsen, a graduate student in urban planning who is Jewish, described it as a distressing time. According to the Jewish student organization Hillel, the University of Michigan has about 6,500 Jewish students, nearly 14 per cent of the student body. The state of Michigan also has one of the largest Arab populations in the U.S. And students of all backgrounds describe feeling pressure to take a side.

A pro-Palestinian encampment lasted several weeks in 2024 before it was dismantled. There were incidents of pushing and shoving and vandalism. In September, a 19-year-old Jewish student walking near campus told police that a group approached him, asked if he was Jewish and then assaulted him. That left many Jewish students shaken.

The conflict seeped into many aspects of campus life. Student politics were consumed with issues related to the Middle East. A slate of candidates who collectively called themselves “Shut it Down” swept nearly half the seats on the university’s student government, then refused to pass a budget to fund normal student activities. Their aim was to apply pressure on the university to divest from Israel.

It all came to a head at a fractious council meeting last October that was disrupted by chanting and threats. Mr. Nielsen, who sat on council, described it as chaotic. He said he witnessed anti-Zionism, but whether it was antisemitic is “a more complicated, complex question.”

The student council president was eventually impeached. Mario Thaqi, the council’s speaker, was chosen to step in.

Mr. Thaqi said navigating the Mideast conflict on campus was stressful. At times, he was mobbed and even threatened, he said.

“Sometimes I went home and I’m like, ‘I’m going to resign. I can’t do this any more,’” he said. “Especially because I’m Arab, I got a lot of hate, like, “you‘re a race traitor,’ that kind of stuff.”

Mr. Thaqi said the spate of arrests and threats to students who took part in protests is a cause for concern. The student government has offered advice to international students worried they could be detained by immigration agents.

Mr. Thaqi said there are University of Michigan students who took part in protests similar to those Mr. Khalil of Columbia led – and are now afraid for their safety.

In a note to campus on April 9, the University of Michigan administration said 22 students have so far had their visas revoked. Students were advised to save the phone number of university legal counsel in case they are served with a search or arrest warrant. On April 23, FBI and local police raided the homes of activists involved in the pro-Palestinian protests, which the student newspaper reported was related to a vandalism investigation.

International students are not only being targeted for voicing pro-Palestinian views. Some elsewhere in the U.S. have had their visas revoked for driving infractions that would previously have not been cause for concern. Across the country, at least 1,220 students have had their visas revoked or their legal status terminated, according to an Associated Press tally.

Now, some students are worried that their connections to China will make them a target. About half of the roughly 8,000 international students at Michigan are Chinese, and with relations between the U.S. and China deteriorating, they’re concerned they’ll be caught in the middle.

“Anxiousness is a good way to describe our campus right now,” Mr. Thaqi said.

Alexander Richmond, the sophomore president of the campus Republicans, said Dr. Ono “undoubtedly made the right decision” in cancelling DEI. It did little to improve the representation of Black students on campus, he said, which has hovered around five per cent for more than a decade, lower than the 14 per cent Black population in the state. And the alternative would have been irresponsible, in his view. The university would be badly hurt if the federal government pulled back research funds, he said, with job losses and implications for students and teaching.

He said the university should seek to foster meaningful dialogue and improve viewpoint diversity on campus. He would like to see more serious protection of free speech. For example, he opposes a university move to ban students from posting decorations or messages on their dorm room doors.

“In my classes, I’d say most discourse is very limited. It’s between the minor nuances between leftist and liberal,” Mr. Richmond said. “As a society, especially in academia, we’ve really failed when it comes to encouraging open dialogue.”

Others would rather not get involved in the debates. Timothy Luo, a sophomore in robotics and electrical engineering from western Michigan, said he is not one to seek out controversy.

“I personally keep my views to myself,” he said. “That’s just me doing the cold calculation.”

He said he aspires to do graduate work. But he has heard rumblings among grad students that research money is at risk and that the U.S. may not be the best place to continue his studies.

Elizabeth Popp Berman, a sociologist and professor of organizational studies, said the assault on universities under way right now is almost without precedent.

“I think there’s a huge shift going on. I hear people talking all the time about what does this mean, what should we be doing?” Prof. Popp Berman said.

She said her big concern is that universities, in this new era, will comply with whatever is demanded, because the threat to funding is so great.

But she understands that it’s not an easy choice for university administrators. Although some schools could theoretically survive without federal funds, they would have to become much smaller institutions.

Meanwhile, faculty and administration staff can be scared to speak out against the demands, she said.

“People start asking themselves whether it’s really worth having an opinion that might get you into trouble.”

Jason Stanley, a philosophy professor at Yale and expert on authoritarianism, decided to leave the United States for the University of Toronto. He conducted a session for professors at the University of Michigan in March about the threat the new U.S. administration poses to academic freedom. He believes the U.S. is on a path to authoritarian government, and the demands on universities are a sign of that shift.

“It’s always the case that authoritarians target schools and universities,” Prof. Stanley said. Universities are places of free inquiry, he explained, and so are seen as a threat.

“They want to impose patriotic education,” he said. “Authoritarianism requires blind, uncritical faith in the nation and its leaders. And universities criticize everything.”

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